


Eyes on the Road

by konekat



Series: AN16 Ficlets [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, fun times in the car, iwa-chan can't resist, iwaoi - Freeform, tooru gets feisty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:46:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7147124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/konekat/pseuds/konekat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are still four hours left in their drive, but Tooru is having a hard time keeping his hands to himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes on the Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Right___Meow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Right___Meow/gifts), [OliviaxxMarie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliviaxxMarie/gifts), [mlim8](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mlim8/gifts).



> Of course. Of course my first fic in the Haikyuu fandom is IwaOi smut. Honestly, I don’t think I would have it any other way.

“Oi, Assikawa, just _stop_.”

Tooru rolls his eyes. “It’s fine,” he assures Hajime. “I’ve almost got it.”

“No,” Hajime says exasperatedly. He attempts to grab the brochure from Tooru, but Tooru yanks it out of his reach. “It most definitely is _not_ fine.”

Tooru clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “You said I was in charge of driving the first half of the trip,” he reminds Hajime. 

“Yeah, _driving_.” Hajime makes another—fruitless—swipe at the brochure. “Would you just give it to me so you can focus on not killing us?”

Tooru rests his wrist on the wheel to keep it steady as he turns a page in the brochure. “Too late, I already found it!” he announces, grinning broadly as he glances down the page. “It looks like checkout is at 10, so if we want to do anything Monday, it’ll have to be after we’ve packed up.”

Hajime makes a disgusted noise from the passenger seat, which only makes Tooru’s grin widen triumphantly. Pleased, he folds the brochure back together. “Here, Iwa-chan, you can have it now,” he says in his sweetest voice, placing the booklet in Hajime’s lap. As he does, his fingers accidentally brush across Hajime’s loose athletic shorts. Struggling to refrain his grin from slipping into a smirk, Tooru gently ghosts his fingers over Hajime’s thigh as he pulls away. 

He can feel Hajime’s leg tense beneath his touch and barely catches the slight sound of his breath hitching. Tooru’s head spins at this response, though he refrains from going farther. They still have four more hours of driving ahead of them until they can drop his dad’s car off at his cousin’s, and another twenty minute drive to the onsen after that. Getting turned on now will simply make the rest of the ride torture. Besides, they have the entire long weekend to do as they wish, _alone_. So instead, Tooru replaces his hand on the steering wheel, keeping his expression innocent as he feels the heat of Hajime’s glare burning into the side of his face.

“I’m glad we’re finally going,” Tooru says, sparing a quick glance toward Hajime. “It’ll be nice to have some time to spend together.”

“I mean, at this point we’ve basically wound up spending every other weekend together,” Hajime replies with a shrug. 

“That doesn’t count,” Tooru whines. “We can finally hang out without having to worry about homework.”

“Idiot, you _should_ worry about that!”

Tooru pouts. “You worry too much, Iwa-chan. This weekend is just you and me. No homework, and no roommates.”

Hajime grunts, but Tooru knows well enough by now that it is in begrudging agreement. They may have gotten to _see_ each other plenty this past semester. But they had hardly had any time to themselves, which made certain activities … difficult.

Tooru finds his thoughts drifting longingly to the long weekend ahead of them, soaking in the baths and having as much time as they need in their room to rediscover every intimate nook and cranny of each other. 

No, _no_. Not now. _Four hour car ride_ , he reminds himself ruefully. 

As they come to a stop at a red light, Hajime stretches in his seat, then leans back. Tooru glances to the side just in time to catch an eyeful of tan biceps flexing less than a foot from him as Hajime’s eyes squeeze closed in contentment. Tooru’s heart jumps into his throat. Even after all these months, he still feels a small thrill shimmy through his chest as he wonders what god liked him enough to allow someone so perfect to love him back.

Hajime rolls his neck, a soft, barely existent groan escaping his lips.

Oh, fuck it all. The thought that Tooru could _ever_ resist Hajime is a complete and utter farce.

Keeping his eyes glued to the red light, Tooru casually places his hand on Hajime’s knee. He can feel Hajime go alert the moment they make contact. He keeps his ministrations simple, gently brushing his thumb across Hajime’s skin in a slow, steady rhythm. _Like taming a wild animal_ , he thinks to himself, suppressing a giggle. He can see the tense line of Hajime’s shoulders from the corner of his eye, can _feel_ his suspicious gaze. But after a few moments Hajime gives in, slowly easing himself back in the passenger seat.

_Victory_.

Tooru is careful to keep his expression neutral, instead humming quietly to himself as he continues to stroke his thumb while watching the cross traffic ahead. He counts down from five in his mind, then slowly caresses his hand further up Hajime’s leg.

“Oi—!”

The light turns green, and Tooru continues forward, not relenting the steady stroking of his hand.

Next to him, Hajime growls. It’s meant as a warning to stop, but the sound crawls through Tooru’s middle, making his hair stand on end. 

“Keep your eyes on the road, dumbass,” Hajime tells him sternly. Not that he makes any move to remove Tooru’s hand.

Tooru’s lips curve into a delighted grin. “They _are_ on the road,” he says in a low, playful voice. His hand inches slowly closer to Hajime’s hip, moving onto the fabric of his shorts.

Hajime grits his teeth. “Then keep your hands on the damn wheel.”

“One’s enough,” Tooru replies sweetly. Hajime opens his mouth, but this time Tooru cuts him off with a soft squeeze of his fingers. “Besides, your legs are too delicious to resist.”

Hajime’s jaw goes slack, his protests momentarily dying on his lips as Tooru kneads the solid muscle just below his groin through the loose material. 

“Oikawa,” Hajime says hoarsely, trying to sound stern but instead only managing a pleading tone. He swallows. “We have _all weekend_. Let’s—let’s focus on getting there first.”

Tooru allows a single, rich chuckle to escape his lips. He teasingly drags his fingertips back toward Hajime’s knee, as if to concede. Hajime sighs beside him in thinly veiled relief. Then Tooru dances his fingers along the curve of Hajime’s knee, circling back around the way he had come. He lets his fingers and palm spread flat against the solid expanse of muscle, smoothly shimmying his way under the loose hem of Hajime’s shorts.

“ _The road_ ,” Hajime gasps. One of his hands flies to Tooru’s wrist and tugs, but not hard. He could pull Tooru off if he wanted to—he is _more than_ strong enough, as Tooru is well aware. But he doesn’t. 

Tooru’s grin widens, even as his heart pounds furiously in his chest. “Don’t worry about the road, Iwa-chan,” he says in a soothing tone. “I won’t take my eyes off it.” It isn’t a lie. Aside from a few brief glances, Tooru has diligently kept his attention on the street in front of him. 

“Just focus on _this_ ,” Tooru coos softly. His fingers brush against the tight hem of Hajime’s boxer briefs, teasing their way along the border. Hajime squirms at his touch, and his grip on Tooru’s arm tightens.

Tooru slides his hand over the smooth material of Hajime’s underwear, moving closer towards the center. His fingers brush against a solid bulge, and he pauses for a moment.

“Oh …” he breathes quietly, ridiculously turned on at finding Hajime so hard already. “Well hello.”

“Dumbass!” Hajime growls. “Don’t be so wei—”

Tooru squeezes gently at the hard warmth, cutting Hajime’s words off into a stuttering gasp. He palms Hajime’s dick, letting his hand lean into the feel of it twitching beneath him. Hajime is becoming even harder with each passing second, and his breaths are coming more heavily now. Pleased, Tooru traces the outline of his shaft through the material, then dips his hand down to cup Hajime’s balls. “So big,” he murmurs, doing his best impression of a breathless porn star.

Hajime manages another irritated warning growl. Gentle, tinkling laughter falls from Tooru’s lips. He wonders if Hajime will ever realize that growling only works to encourage him. He hopes he doesn’t.

Tooru’s cheeks are slightly warm as he drags his hand back down Hajime’s leg and out of his shorts. A quick sideways glance reveals a bright red flush all the way up Hajime’s neck and cheeks, slowly creeping its way onto his ears. 

He glides his fingers up under Hajime’s tee, then works on tugging his shorts and boxer briefs down.

Hajime’s other hand grabs hold of Tooru’s wrist, effectively stopping him. “No,” he says firmly, though Tooru catches the regret soaking into his tone. “The car—we’ll make a mess.”

“We can clean it up,” Tooru tells him lightly. He attempts to resume his work on Hajime’s shorts, but Hajime’s grip holds fast. 

“The lube’s in the trunk,” Hajime argues, still resisting.

Tooru smirks. “I thought you _liked_ it dry, sometimes.”

Even with his arm locked in place, Tooru manages to wriggle his fingers against the hard expanse of Hajime’s abs.

Hajime flinches, but he doesn’t let go. Tooru glances over to find Hajime watching him with a stern frown. 

A disgusted noise escapes Tooru’s mouth, and he flops back in his seat in resignation. At his defeat, Hajime finally releases his hold, allowing Tooru to tug his hand back to the wheel. 

_Ridiculous_ , Tooru thinks to himself. _Absolutely ridiculous. If only_ —

The light ahead of them turns yellow, and an idea skitters across Tooru’s mind. As the light changes to red, he gets into the turn lane and comes to a stop. He risks a glance to his left and is pleased to find Hajime looking out the window. _Perfect_. Tooru increases his pressure on the brakes, just in case.

Fast as a fox, he leans to the side and uses both hands to push the seat belt aside and yank down Hajime’s shorts and briefs just enough for his dick to spring out. Hajime yelps and grabs for his hands, but not before Tooru lowers his head and swallows half of his length in one go. 

“ _Oikawa_ ,” Hajime groans, only half in outrage. “What the—the hell—”

Tooru bobs his head, curling his tongue sloppily around Hajime’s dick. Hajime’s fingers tangle in his hair, yanking hard enough that Tooru’s eyes water, but he doesn’t stop. He laves messily at the tip, leaving far more spit behind than the deliciously bitter pre-cum he licks away.

Hajime groans again, his dick twitching in Tooru’s mouth, and Tooru swallows in surprise. But then he releases Hajime with a wet pop and sits back up with a twinge of regret. Just as his fingers curl back around the steering wheel, the light turns green. He follows the line of cars through the intersection and onto the ramp to the highway. 

Hajime’s breathing is ragged, his mouth parted in frozen surprise, and Tooru can’t help a satisfied smile. “See?” he asks, taken a little off guard by how breathless he sounds. “Who needs lube?”

“You…” 

Apparently Hajime doesn’t have the strength to finish his sentence. Tooru’s not arguing. He merges onto the highway, staying in the slow lane to make this easier. Then, when he’s driving at a steady speed behind the car in front of them, Tooru reaches over and wraps his hand around Hajime’s shaft.

Hajime hisses, the large vein in his dick pulsing against Tooru’s fingers. Tooru can feel the heat rising in his cheeks again as his hand glides over Hajime’s slick length. The excessive amount of spit squelches with each pass, and Tooru reflexively tightens his grip. 

Hajime’s hand closes around Tooru’s upper arm. Tooru almost protests before he realizes that it’s for support rather than to stop him. He shoots a quick glance at Hajime only to see his boyfriend hunched forward in his seat, head hanging as he pants. _Fuck_.

Tooru forcefully drags his gaze back to the road in front of him and picks up the pace of his hand. It would probably be best to finish this quickly. He begins to flick his wrist with each downward stroke, biting his lip as a Hajime looses a string of moans. 

Tooru’s eyes strain as he forcefully keeps his gaze dead ahead. The _last_ thing he needs is to wreck his father’s car before they can deliver it to his cousin. But the urgency of the matter doesn’t stop the heat from coiling low in his middle as he continues to jack Hajime off. 

Hajime’s dick is straining in his hand now, flushed and throbbing and _dripping_ and Tooru can’t take this—he doesn’t know how much longer he can take this. So he eases his grip, instead rubbing his palm in a tantalizing, circular motion over the head. The motion smears his drying spit with the excessive pre-cum that is now leaking from Hajime’s cock. Tooru runs his tongue along his dry, dry lips. 

The grip on his arm tightens to an almost painful level, and Hajime gasps. “Oika— _ah_ —” He swallows loudly and rakes in another breath. “ _Move_.” 

His tone is halfway between begging and demanding, and Tooru isn’t sure which half is turning him on more—possibly both. He allows his hand to slide back over Hajime’s shaft. Hajime is close—Tooru is sure of it—and he moves his hand quickly and sloppily. 

Somehow, Hajime’s hand tightens even further on his arm, and Tooru bites back a mewl. His eyes are watering now and he struggles to keep an even pressure on the gas, the fingers of his right hand curled into a tight ball around the wheel. 

Suddenly, Tooru feels Hajime thrust into his hand. Tooru whimpers, head spinning dangerously as he tries to focus on the road. The seat belt doesn’t allow Hajime much wiggle room, but it’s enough for him to fuck Tooru’s hand with rather impressive force, given the circumstances. Tooru is happy to let Hajime take over, ignoring the metallic taste of blood that coats his tongue as his teeth cut his bottom lip. 

“Ah … _fuck_ ,” Hajime breathes. His voice is barely more than a low growl. He thrusts his hips rhythmically into Tooru’s fist, leaning his head back helplessly against the headrest. “I—I’m— _Tooru_ …”

He looses a strangled gasp, and Tooru tears his gaze from the road to take in the stunning sight next to him. Hajime’s hips stutter, then push forward, swaying of their own accord as a jet of cum streams towards the glove compartment. His face is entirely flushed, eyes fluttering closed as the tension in his body dissipates. He falls back against his seat, panting helplessly as sweat trickles down his temple. 

_Oh_.

Tooru’s jaw is hanging open, eyes glazing over as he takes in the sexed out mess that is his boyfriend. 

There’s a loud roar, and Tooru jumps as he feels the steering wheel shake under his hand. He looks forward to find that he’s let them drift over the line and onto the rumble strips. He guiltily yanks the car back into the center of the lane, hoping against hope that Hajime won’t call him out on it. 

Luckily for him, Hajime appears to be too overwhelmed to comment. He slowly regains his breath, eyes still closed. 

Oikawa takes the opportunity to fidget just once, using his legs to push against his own hard on. Thank god he wore jeans today. As painfully tight as they are right now, Tooru is well aware that Hajime would never agree to jerk him off while driving. At least the jeans can mask his erection until it dies down. 

Hajime’s fingers brush against Tooru’s cheeks, and Tooru jumps at the sudden contact. “You dumbass,” Hajime says, although there’s no bite to it, only a blanket of amazed affection. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

Tooru manages a self-satisfied smirk, though he can still feel the heat dancing along his cheeks. He allows his eyes to drop to half-lidded for good measure. “And _you_ wanted to wait.”

He sneaks a peak at Hajime only to find his scowl already resuming its usual place.

A chuckle tugs at Tooru’s lips, but he pushes it back. _Too cute_. 

“And?” he asks playfully, giving in and deciding to push Hajime anyway. “Don’t _I_ get a present?”

There’s a moment of silence, and Tooru looks over to find Hajime giving him a flat look. Tooru’s heart sinks, just a little, even though he _knew_ what Hajime’s answer would be. 

Tooru rolls his eyes, heaving a dramatic, high pitched sigh. “My word, Iwa-chan~ So _selfish_.”

Hajime glances in front of him, and Oikawa follows his gaze to the cum still dripping down the glove compartment. With a sigh—a real one, this time—he relents. “There’re napkins in the glove compartment … If you can get them out in the first place.”

But Hajime doesn’t fall for his teasing. Instead, he simply opens the drawer and grabs a handful. Realizing the fun is over, Tooru turns his full attention back to the road. Oh well, it had been worth a shot. 

Hajime grunts beside him as he wipes up the mess, and Tooru braces his hands at the irritation he can already hear in his voice. 

“We’re gonna need some water to wash this off,” Hajime says grumpily. “Your dad will kill us if we hand the car over with stains on it.”

A pout has worked its way back onto Tooru’s lips. He will _not_ apologize. Not when Hajime had _clearly_ enjoyed their illicit act so thoroughly. 

“… Maybe we should make a quick pit stop to get some water.”

Tooru frowns, then blinks as Hajime’s suggestion sinks in. He glances over to see Hajime watching him closely. His eyes dip down to Tooru’s tight pants before slowly traveling back up to his eyes.

Apparently his jeans haven’t done that great a job of masking his hard on after all. Tooru can’t find it in himself to mind.

“Isn’t there a gas station at the next exit?” Hajime continues. The corner of his lips quirk into the faintest of smiles. “We could—”

“ _Yes_ ,” Tooru replies hastily, not even caring as Hajime chuckles faintly. He shivers as Hajime’s finger dance across his cheeks yet again before dipping down to trace along his neck. Swallowing thickly, he adds, “Water sounds good.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case this isn’t clear in the story, Oikawa’s cousin is buying his dad’s car, and Oikawa and Hajime are playing delivery boys. They took the opportunity to expand it into a long weekend trip. It was the best reason I could come up with to have them driving such a long distance xD
> 
> This is one of eleven fic ideas that Alex, Liv, Mel, and I all came up with over the weekend while at Anime North. Most of them are just short little oneshots that I’ll be collecting altogether into a series. 
> 
> The idea behind this fic basically went something like this: Huh, can’t really picture Iwa-chan giving Oikawa head while Oikawa’s driving. But Oikawa would be enough of a little shit to jerk Iwa-chan off while _he’s_ the one driving. And voila, here we are. 
> 
> I should be posting the rest of the AN16 Ficlets soon. Most of these were just random ideas that we all thought up while giggling profusely, but a small handful of them were based on actual events that occurred during the con. I think they'll be fun, so I hope you'll check them out!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this fic!!! I really hope you enjoyed it x)
> 
> And super special thanks to Alex, Liv, and Mel, who made my first con one of the best experiences in my entire life, and who dragged me into Haikyuu Hell with them, hook, line, and sinker. I love you guys so much—thanks for being some of the most awesome friends I could ever ask for! Here's to many more, and plenty of fangirling together x3


End file.
